Thoughts & Actions
by ohmygodnotthecar
Summary: 13 three sentence long scenes and drabbles.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**13 three sentence long scenes and drabbles. They stand alone but I'm thinking of expanding one into a longer story, so please, help me decide which to pick? Time, place, tone and character vary. **

**Originally inspired by a number of excellent fics which used a series of one-word cues for inspiration.**

Handful

Sam wrenches out of the demon's grasp, leaving a handful of brown hair, bloody at the roots, behind. He scrabbles for the gun lying forgotten in a corner and plugs the thing right between its yellow eyes. A week later Dean teases him about the ugly, scabbed bald patch above his right ear, and they both laugh.

Alcibiades

Dean walks into the bar with a sheen of arrogance. He flirts and drinks easily, smooth and shallow as a puddle, until a car backfires outside. The soldier comes to the fore instantly, the mask slips and must be resumed with a smile and a shrug.

Bleach

He didn't place the smell for months, but found laundry and cleaning days always made him oddly tense. Only after escorting Jess to a clinic (the test was negative) did he realise that the stink of bleach meant 'hospital'. It connected to the hollow, gutted feeling of waiting for bad news in a white corridor.

Scissors

"Hold still, or I'll take your ear off."

"Using those scissors, I'll be surprised if you can even cut hair, let alone break skin."

"You wanna cut your own hair, smartass, go ahead."

Sibling

Shared memories, a shared past, are a bond in themselves. The satisfying conformation of one's own experience and thoughts from the mouth of another. In-jokes and eye-contact a light reminder of companionship, sweet and often timely.

Drunkard

The adrenaline rush of cheating death gave both brothers a high that floated them dizzy and grinning to the motel. Sam laughed and Dean smirked like a teenager as they negotiated the revolving door. The receptionist looked on, lips pursed in sober disapproval.

Necropolis

The streets are crowded with the dead masquerading as the living. Sam blinks hard, hoping to dispel this vision of the Apocalypse. Hoping that it is a vision, not the present – his timeline is all screwed up today.

Degeneration

Flesh goes to rot goes to mouldering bone. It's better to be burned, years of slow degeneration condensed by fire to bright destruction. Dean pours on the gasoline and strikes a match, his intent expression momentarily illuminated by the flare.

Candela

The grey fuzziness of night vision is as familiar as the cold seeping through his dew-damp jacket. He's been waiting hidden for what seems like hours when a spark flickers on the periphery of sight. Moments later Sam careers past, trouble close behind.

Rickshaw

"You have to be kidding, Sammy, this is so not our getaway car"

"It's environmentally friendly, cheap to run and, oh yeah, the only vehicle I could find. Now pedal!"

Mission

The hunt isn't about running, or shooting, or burning and breaking. It's not about lying to officials and families and sifting through archives for clues. That moment of preparation, all facts known, all weapons checked, ready to roll but not actually out the door – that's what gets John's adrenaline flowing because in his mind it's the last moment he has to turn back.

Fireworks

There are stars beneath Sam's eyelids as he leans against the dresser, one hand pressed against a bruised temple while the other gropes for a steadying handhold. Dean rushes in and Sam can tell that something's wrong, the walls are shaking and Dean has to guide him out, half carrying him and cursing his damn height. They're nearly down the garden path before the gas main ruptures, the dull _crump_ of an explosion echoing down the street.

Sweet

Acid and sugar, painfully sweet, is the taste of the over-processed mess that they chose for dessert. The only blueberry this blueberry pie ever saw is the cartoon one on its cardboard box. Sam leans back from his portion of incipient adult diabetes and watches Dean eat, half in indulgent disgust, half in awe at the sheer fortitude of his brother's much-abused digestive system.

**A/N If any of these give you an idea for a fic, please use them. Acknowledgement would be welcome but is not essential.**


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